My father is now is hospice care. He has been for a few weeks now.
I thought increasing his care to include hospice would be more difficult that it was. The social worker, Jenny, was very caring and understanding. She went over all of the details with me. I signed lots of forms (my sister’s and I have Power of Attorney and Power of Health) and she explained what this would mean to my Dad’s general care.
He will stay in the same room he is currently in. The same nurses will care for him on a daily basis. Hospice workers, very familiar with the facility, will come in and give additional care – adding to what he is already receiving. There are additional support people – nurses, various therapists including a music therapist, social worker, Chaplin, etc.
My Dad is now 90 with Alzheimer’s. In May and June he had a couple of seizures, which affected his ability to control his tremors, especially in his hands and arms. More recently, there have been times where his arms move in a “flapping” motion. His right leg jerks almost constantly. He has gone down hill rapidly, especially since his 90th birthday on July 23.
The main hospice nurse, Jay, calls me several times a week. He has been around for years at the health care center where Dad is and got to know him well before his decline. He is shocked and sad to see Dad in his current condition. He feels Dad doesn’t have too much time left, but wants him to be more comfortable. Jay has been adjusting Dad’s meds to get his muscle to relax and the spasms to cease. Now, these nurses know what they are taking about. This is their job and they understand the signs of decline in elderly people. My Dad has always been somewhat of a favorite with the staff. He was very personable, friendly, easy going and willing to do things. Plus, he loves to sing and use to sing to them which they all enjoyed.
So, I don’t question that my Dad needs additional care and that his time is limited. And, more importantly, I know that the staff really cares about him and he receives excellent care.
When all this started happening I went out there one morning. Patti, one of the regular nurses, stopped me . ‘Beware,” she said, “he is really having a bad day.” I stood frozen outside his door. He was sitting in his wheelchair, mouth hanging open, his arms outstretched and “flapping.” I couldn’t go in. I muffled a sob and walked down the hallway. Patti steered me to the social worker’s office where I cried and cried.
But it is OK to do that. Now that I am over the shock of what a bad day could be, I able to once again spend time with him. Talk to him, sing to him (he will still try to sing with me if he is alert), stroke his hands and arms, face and head. Just be with him.
That’s all I can do.
I thought increasing his care to include hospice would be more difficult that it was. The social worker, Jenny, was very caring and understanding. She went over all of the details with me. I signed lots of forms (my sister’s and I have Power of Attorney and Power of Health) and she explained what this would mean to my Dad’s general care.
He will stay in the same room he is currently in. The same nurses will care for him on a daily basis. Hospice workers, very familiar with the facility, will come in and give additional care – adding to what he is already receiving. There are additional support people – nurses, various therapists including a music therapist, social worker, Chaplin, etc.
My Dad is now 90 with Alzheimer’s. In May and June he had a couple of seizures, which affected his ability to control his tremors, especially in his hands and arms. More recently, there have been times where his arms move in a “flapping” motion. His right leg jerks almost constantly. He has gone down hill rapidly, especially since his 90th birthday on July 23.
The main hospice nurse, Jay, calls me several times a week. He has been around for years at the health care center where Dad is and got to know him well before his decline. He is shocked and sad to see Dad in his current condition. He feels Dad doesn’t have too much time left, but wants him to be more comfortable. Jay has been adjusting Dad’s meds to get his muscle to relax and the spasms to cease. Now, these nurses know what they are taking about. This is their job and they understand the signs of decline in elderly people. My Dad has always been somewhat of a favorite with the staff. He was very personable, friendly, easy going and willing to do things. Plus, he loves to sing and use to sing to them which they all enjoyed.
So, I don’t question that my Dad needs additional care and that his time is limited. And, more importantly, I know that the staff really cares about him and he receives excellent care.
When all this started happening I went out there one morning. Patti, one of the regular nurses, stopped me . ‘Beware,” she said, “he is really having a bad day.” I stood frozen outside his door. He was sitting in his wheelchair, mouth hanging open, his arms outstretched and “flapping.” I couldn’t go in. I muffled a sob and walked down the hallway. Patti steered me to the social worker’s office where I cried and cried.
But it is OK to do that. Now that I am over the shock of what a bad day could be, I able to once again spend time with him. Talk to him, sing to him (he will still try to sing with me if he is alert), stroke his hands and arms, face and head. Just be with him.
That’s all I can do.
1 comment:
Blessings to you and your family, dear friend. You do what you can, and the rest is up to the universe.
Sending you hugs - and praying for you...
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